


Sugar Never Tasted So Good

by stylesforstiles



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, side smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-13
Updated: 2013-03-23
Packaged: 2017-12-05 04:10:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/718737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesforstiles/pseuds/stylesforstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Louis is a music snob, Zayn is a comic geek, and the rest of the boys are in a band. A little bit High Fidelity, and little bit not</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I like to name my stories after songs, this one is of the Jack White variety xo

Louis pulled out the keys to the shop, noting the new display that was set up in the window. He pursed his lips, impressed with the detail that Zayn had put into it. After all, it was just a shitty little record/comic book shop but it was their shitty little record/comic book shop, so he was allowed to be a kind of proud. The door creaked open and he flicked on the lights, adjusting his eyes to the harsh glow of neon. He threw his bag on the couch in the back room, adjusting his beanie as he passed by a mirror, wondering if maybe he should actually make an attempt to do his hair one of these days. He shrugged thinking nah, he’d leave the whole having amazing hair thing to Zayn. He found it moderately annoying that he could pull off so many looks, as if his face wasn’t offensive enough. He was currently rocking some sort of Japanese anime look, and Louis thought that he was looking extra pouty lately in order to somehow enhance it. But of course Zayn would deny that vehemently. He heard the jingle of the front door and Zayn’s voice call out to him.

“Morning, Lewis!” he shouted, and a bit too cheerfully he might add.

Louis stomped out of the backroom; his arms full of a pile of records he needed to put away. “Zayn, you know I fucking hate it when you say my name like that…” He cocked an eyebrow at him. “You changed your hair again,”

Zayn rubbed at his undercut absently. “Oh yeah. Did it on a whim last night. It look alright?”

Louis rolled his eyes, dropping the records on the counter. “I’m not doing this. We both know you look hot, so quit fishing for complements.”

“Ha. I knew you thought I was hot,” he said smugly.

“Everyone we’ve ever met since we hit puberty has thought you were hot. This includes men, women, and I’m fairly certain some animals as well. This isn’t a new development,” Louis stated as he counted money, shoving it into the till.

Zayn stared at Louis while he contemplated this. “Yeah maybe, but _you’ve_ never actually told me.”

“I figured it was an unspoken agreement between the two of us that we didn’t discuss your beauty to spare my feelings,” Louis said, still steadfastly ignoring him as he moved on to making notes in their shipment book.

He walked behind the counter to hook his arm around Louis’ shoulders. “Aww, but you and your beanie collection are so cute though,”

Louis wriggled out from his hold. “Get off, I will not take pity from a comic book geek.”

“That’s hot comic book geek to you, music snob.”

Louis stood up, pointing his nose haughtily in the air. “My best attribute really. Speaking of which, what do to you want to listen to today?”

Zayn looked at him surprised. “You’re letting me pick?”

Louis smirked. “Never. I just wanted to hear what you’d say.”

Zayn flipped him off before grabbing a box of comics to sort through. “Twat. And I was going to say the new Bruno Mars for what it’s worth.”

Louis tapped a finger against his lips, squinting his eyes at Zayn. “Hmm. Fine. I’ll allow it.”

Zayn gave a little cheer. “Yay.”

And with that they set off to their respective spots in the shop, Zayn sitting in the back cataloguing his newest acquisitions, and Louis in a stool at the till reading the newest issue of Rolling Stone.

 

 **

 

Harry shivered in his coat, wondering when the sun was ever going to make an appearance again. Not to say he didn’t enjoy the winter, because it helped justify his coat buying obsession – Liam just shook his head every time he showed up to the studio in a new one – but it was really border lining on depressing now. He crossed the street, reading the shop signs until he found the one Nick had recommended to him, claiming he could find whatever dumb fuck Batman comic Liam was scouring for there. Dumb fuck being Nick’s words, not his. Liam may have been his best friend, but he was also his manager and he did a lot of shit for Harry that he really didn’t need to, so finding this comic for him had become somewhat of a holy mission.

Harry pulled open the door of the shop, blowing on his hands as he stepped inside. He peered around and noted that holy fuck; there were a lot of records there. How does someone even acquire this many, let alone know what they all are. His eyes moved around the shop until he landed on a grey beanie hunched over at the cash register. He finally raised his head, his startling blue eyes meeting Harry’s.

“Hey.”

And that was the extent of his interest in Harry before he looked back down at whatever he was reading. Harry frowned a little. Okay not to say that he needed the attention, but he was used to it by now, people recognizing him. His band was semi popular in the UK, and hello his hair looked really good today if he may say so himself, so how could this guy ignore him. Honestly. He walked slowly to the cash register, clearing his throat as his stood there with his hands shoved in his coat pockets. Blue Eyes looked up again with the same disinterest on his face. Harry nodded down at the magazine, “Rolling Stone?”

He sat up higher, eyes taking in Harry’s face, looking at him thoughtfully. “How’d you know,” he said this with a smirk behind his eyes that Harry didn’t seem to catch on to.

“Oh. I’m a musician, so I read…”

He immediately dropped his eyes, hunching back over again, his attention back on the magazine. “No.”

Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “No?”

He shook his head, still not looking at Harry. “No.”

Harry tapped a finger on the magazine to get his attention. “I don’t think I understand,”

He sighed, closing the magazine, sitting up once more. Harry noted his sharp cheekbones and the lines beside his eyes, and wondered if they crinkled up when he smiled. Wait, _if_ he smiled. He darted his eyes to the hand he had wrapped around his arm and thought that he kind of had really nice hands. They were tanned, which was a little odd considering that they were in the middle of an extended winter and suddenly his collar felt a bit hot, because he was being a tad bit creepy.

He finally spoke a sentence longer than no and Harry thought shit, he had a nice voice too. “Look, we have our fill of pretentious twats in here claiming to be 'musicians' so it just gets a little old after a while. I’m sure your struggling indie band is wonderful and all that,” he said with a knowing smile, accompanied by a condescending hand pat.

Harry was taken aback. “I’m not in an indie band.”

And there was that mocking smile again. “Oh I’m sorry. Hipster band. Whatever. I can never tell the difference.”

“I’m pretty sure they’re the same thing.”

He shrugged. “Only one of us is a hipster here, so you tell me,”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “What makes you think I’m a hipster?”

“First off love, I’m not even going to begin to understand how you got into those jeans. Second, you’re carrying a bag from a thrift shop, trust me, that’s always a telling sign. Third, I’m willing to bet you’ve said the words ‘obscure 60’s garage band from northern England’ at some point in your life.” He watched Harry’s face pull into a grimace. “Should I go on?”

When he didn’t say anything, Louis simply nodded. “Thought so. I’m usually right about these things. So did you actually need something, or are you just slumming it?”

He opened his mouth a few times, still in shock from Louis’ tirade. He ran his hand absently through is hair, looking lost. “Umm…Batman?”

Louis turned to holler towards the back. “Zayn, some hipster musician needs a Batman comic.” And with that he jumped off the stool, giving Harry a wide smile, which Harry didn’t even get the chance to fully appreciate as he was still in a daze from him being a mouthy bastard.

He clapped his hands. “Alright then! Since my services are clearly not needed, I’m off to lunch. Good luck with you know, the whole hipster thing.”

He slapped Zayn on the shoulder as he passed him, earning him a funny look, followed by a ‘twat’.  Louis caught the “Hey mate, how can I help you” as he rounded the corner to the back room, as well as the heat from a pair of eyes burning into his back.

 

**

 

Harry was utterly confused when he left the shop, clutching Liam’s comic in his hand. He was excited that he was able to actually find it, and even more excited to see the look on his face when he finally gave it to him. But his encounter with the guy with the mischievous (okay judgemental) blue eyes had really gotten under his skin. He didn’t know why, but he felt the sudden urge to go back there.

The next morning it was like an unstoppable force, he had to go back there and what, defend himself? Sure, that sounded rational he thought as he stood in front of his closet contemplating what wouldn’t constitute as ‘hipster’. Like fuck, he just really liked his skinny jeans okay, and from what he’s been told they looked good on him, so record store guy was just going to have to fucking deal with it. He shook his head, knowing that button down plaid was definitely a bad idea. He wanted to kick something. “God dammit, I am NOT a fucking hipster!”

He walked over to his dresser, drumming his fingers on the top in a fury, and finally decided that a white Henley had to be safe. He dragged it over his head and grabbed his coat, steeling himself for whatever that mouthy little shit was going to throw at him today.

When he entered the shop, Blue Eyes was in the exact same position Harry had seen him in the day before, hunched over another magazine and again not paying attention to him. He stalked over to the counter, his voice tinged with annoyance when he didn’t look up. “You’re rude, you know.”

He nodded and continued to flip the pages of his magazine. “Okay," he said sounding bored.

Harry reached over and grabbed the magazine, finally gauging a reaction out of him other than indifference. He sat up, his lips curling into a smile. “Now look who’s being rude,”

Harry resisted the urge to pull his hair. “God, and frustrating. Let’s not forget that one.”

Louis looked at him with amusement. “What, no hipster musician things to do to today?”

Harry gave him a sour look, his arms folded across his chest. “What’s your problem with ‘musicians’ anyways. I mean judging from this store, I would think you’d kind of respect them.”

“Oh I do. But what I don’t respect is people like _you_ who claim that they can’t listen to top 40 because it questions their musical morals, when I know for a fact you arseholes probably go home and shame listen to Beyoncé.” Louis shot him a look like he dared him to argue.

Harry leaned in closer, his face serious. “Beyoncé had one of the greatest videos of all time. Kanye West said so.”

Louis pointed to the door. “Get out of my store.”

Harry finally laughed, his dimple flashing and he definitely noticed those blue eyes dart over to look at it. “Why should I?”

He hopped off his stool, walking around the counter and started pushing Harry towards the door. “Because, I will not be ridiculed by a hipster in disguise in my place of business. I see right through that Henley you’ve got on, Curly.”

Harry didn’t budge because as it turned out, Blue Eyes was significantly shorter than him. He stood on the spot smiling, as his hands kept pushing into his side. “Undressing me with your eyes hey? It’s cool, I don’t blame you.”

Louis snorted. “You wish. Please leave.”

Harry started giggling at the little grunts Louis was making as he attempted to remove him, so Louis finally relented and leaned against the counter to glower at him.

Harry smiled at him brightly. “You should come to one of my shows.”

“I would rather die, thanks.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s a bit dramatic,”

Zayn shuffled in from the back of store, his eyes taking in the scene in front of him. He noted Louis’ face and thought ‘oh shit’ “Is everything okay out here, Louis?”

Harry looked at Zayn with a toothy grin. “Oh, hello again! I was just inviting your friend Louis to see me play on the weekend,” he turned to Louis, “My name's Harry by the way.”

Louis rolled his eyes, rounding the counter to sit at the till once again. “No one cares.”

Harry didn’t let up though. He nodded at Zayn. “He must be fun to work with everyday,”

Zayn beamed at him like he had just made a new alliance. “Harry, mate, I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I’ve known this judgemental prick since we were kids. It’s a constant struggle.”

“No one asked for your life story, Zayn,” Louis said as he started flicking paperclips at him.

Harry just shook his head at him, meeting Zayn’s eyes again. “He does seem like a bit of a diva. So anyways, like I was saying, you guys should come to my show on Saturday. I can put your names at the door. No cover and all that.”

Zayn nodded. “Yeah cool, that’d be brilliant.” He ignored the glare and stapler that Louis was now threatening to throw at him. “Where you playing at?”

Harry scratched his head. “The Brixton Academy?”

Louis stiffened in his chair while Zayn blew out an impressed whistle. “Wow, that’s pretty big. Even the princess back here has to be a little impressed; I saw the Beastie Boys there.”

Louis huffed in the background. “It’s not _that_ big of a deal. He’s not in the Beatles for Christ sake.”

Zayn gave Harry’s shoulder a pat. “You should ignore him.”

Harry glanced over at Louis again. “I feel like that’s somewhat of a daunting task.”

“It takes a few years of practice, but trust me it’s worth it.”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here, you wankers,” Louis trilled.

Zayn smiled again. “Ah, but that’s the thing. He hates to be ignored. It’s an uphill battle. So, we’ll see you Saturday?”

“Yes, definitely.” He walked over to Louis, a smile dancing on his lips. He reached across the counter, grabbing the beanie off Louis’ head and squashed it down over his curls. He gave him a wink as he walked backwards to the door, “Looking forward to it, Louis."

He disappeared out the door as Zayn burst out into laughter clutching at his sides. “Your face…is fucking…priceless!”

Louis sat there in shock; his mouth hanging open, his hair in a crazy disarray. “He took my fucking beanie!”

Zayn only laughed harder. “That he did. This is the best day ever!”

Louis reached up to pat his head, still suffering the aftershock. “This is sexual assault,”

Zayn was doubled over now. “Lou, what the fuck are you even talking about?”

He threw a dirty look at Zayn. “My head is naked… _naked,_ Zayn. He just disrobed me and I am _offended._ ”

Zayn finally straightened up, hopping onto the counter. “Judging from the way you two were bickering at each other, I think there is definitely going to be some disrobing in your future.”

Louis narrowed his eyes as he took out a pen to doodle on Zayn’s hand. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that there is going to be some very hot hate fucking in your future. I’m kind of jealous actually. Nothing better than angry sex.”

Louis wrote a huge ‘fuck you’ on Zayn’s hand before he pulled it away laughing. He ruffled Louis’ hair, bouncing onto the floor again. “Whatever, I don’t think you’ll be too hurt about it. He’s pretty fucking fit, Lou,”

Louis scoffed. “His jeans are ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously hot, you mean.”

Louis threw the pen at him. “Are you should _you_ don’t want to shag him, Zaynie?”

“I would, but I think he’s more into your English sausage,” Zayn called out as he ran into the back room.

“You disgust me, Zayn Malik!”

Louis turned up the music to drown out Zayn’s cackles, silently fuming over the sounds of Jack White, and not at all thinking about how Blunderbuss would probably be the perfect soundtrack to hate fuck Harry the hipster to. 


	2. Chapter 2

Harry was whistling and snapping his fingers when he walked into the rehearsal space that afternoon, earning him a few strange looks from the band, and a wide grin from Niall.

“What’s with you, you get laid or something?”

Harry flopped down on the couch next to him. “Nope,” he poked him in the shoulder, “But soon enough, Niall.”

Liam walked over, sipping his tea with a question in his eyes. “Oh? I didn’t know you were seeing someone?”

Harry slouched further into the couch, putting his arms behind his head, smiling broadly. “Oh, I’m not.”

Liam and Niall shot each other a look like oh god here we go again. Liam sat down next to him, gingerly placing a hand on his knee. “Harry, did you take mushrooms again?”

He huffed out a laugh. “What?! No! Why would you think I’m on mushrooms?”

Niall strummed a tune on his guitar, looking up at him again with a smirk. “Haz, you made up an entire fictional relationship the last time you were on them. Never hurts to ask.”

Harry sighed dreamily. “Oh, yeah. That was nice. He was the perfect guy.”

Liam gave his knee a squeeze. “Yes, and I had to hear about it for hours while you continuously rubbed my newly shaved head. I think your hand had rug burn the next day.” Harry leaned over to pet his hair, which had Liam swatting his hand away, earning him a pout. “So, who are we talking about then?”

“His name is Louis, and I’m pretty sure he hates me. He’s coming to the show on Saturday,” Harry said happily.

Liam looked concerned. “Why would he come to the show if he hates you?”

Harry gave him a knowing smile. “Well, he may hate me, but he definitely wants to fuck me. I can tell.”

Liam sighed, running a hand over his face. “Harry, must you be so…so,”

“Amazing?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, I was going to say crass. So, where did you meet him?”

Harry sprung off the couch, walking over to his bag to rummage around for Liam’s gift. He pulled it out holding it behind his back. “I met him in this record/comic book shop, and when you see what I’m about to give you, you’re going to feel really bad about calling me names,”

“Crass is hardly the worst thing I’ve called you, Harry.”

“True. Now let me give you a present.” He walked over and dropped the bag on Liam’s lap. He stood in front of him, rocking back and forth on his feet in anticipation.

Liam gingerly unfolded the top of the bag, his eyes widening as he pulled out the comic. Harry bit back his smile as he watched Liam stare at in awe. His flicked his eyes up to Harry, his voice painted with excitement. “Harry, I’ve been looking for this for ages!”

Niall wandered back to the couch, peering over his shoulder. “What is it?”

Liam spoke exuberantly. “It’s a comic. I’ve been searching for this particular issue of Batman Detective comics for years, I just…I can’t believe you found it!”

Niall reached out to pinch his cheek. “You’re such a geek, Payno.”

He darted his head out of Niall’s reach, still mesmerized with his gift. He bounced up to pull Harry into a hug, who wrapped his arms around him smiling against his neck. Liam pulled back, holding onto Harry’s shoulders. “Why did you go to all this trouble?”

Harry grabbed his face, placing a loud kiss on his lips. “Because I love you, silly.”

Liam wiped his lips, pushing Harry away as he shook his head laughing. “I love you too, but save the kissing for your new boyfriend.”

“I think I’m going to call him fuck buddy for now,” Harry said correcting him.

“Harry, that is so rude.”

“You dicks never buy me gifts,” Niall interrupted, pouting from the couch.

Harry plopped into his lap, wrapping his arms around his waist. “I think paying for your drinks all the time should count for something.”

“Yeah, but that’s not as thoughtful as a rare comic book,”

Harry pinched him in the side. “You would think it was if you saw my credit card bill every month,”

Niall pinched him back. “Fine, you win. So, what does record store guy look like?”

Harry snuggled in closer. “I’m glad you asked, Niall. Louis…yeah okay. He has these amazing blue eyes, like not just regular blue but like a tropical ocean kind of blue? It’s mad, and he’s really quite tanned which is highly suspicious for this time of year, but I’m not going to question it because its fucking hot, and he has these cheekbones that could probably cut glass, and he has really beautiful hands and….”

Liam and Niall were both staring at him with their jaws dropped. He darted his eyes between them. “What?”

Niall hooted. “That’s really fucking detailed. You sound like a stalker.”

“Hardly, I’ve only seen him twice.”

Liam look surprised. “And you got all of that from two encounters? Wow, you must actually like this one.”

Harry brightened again. “I do! I’m fairly certain he’ll be in love with me by the time I’m done with him.”

Niall nodded, impressed. “Your confidence astounds me, Harry.”

Harry climbed off Niall, offering his hand to pull him up. “Well, why else would I be the lead singer, Niall.”

Liam sighed, shifting back into his fatherly demeanor once more. “Just don’t let him distract you okay, it’s a big show on Saturday.”

Harry smirked, slinging an arm around Liam’s neck. “Are you kidding me? I’m going to put on the show of my fucking life. I’m great when I’m cocky.”

 

 **

 

Louis scowled at anyone that came within his vision as he stood in line to get another beer, because there truly wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to help him deal with the people at this show.

“That lying twat, he _is_ in a fucking indie band and I’m surrounded by hipsters on a Saturday night and this is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Zayn sipped his drink, laughing at Louis’ dramatics. “So why did you come then?”

Louis stabbed a finger at him. “Because, then he would have showed up at the shop again rubbing it in my face that I’m too good to come see his show, which I _am,_ and I will not give him the satisfaction.”

Zayn gave him a look of pity. “Been thinking about soundtracks to fuck him to, haven’t you.”

Louis turned his back, stepping towards the front of the bar to place his order. “I despise you.”

“More or less than Harry right now?”

“It’s a tie,” he said as he raised his beer to the bartender. “Cheers, you’ll be seeing a lot more of me.”

He turned to face Zayn again, who was smirking at him. Louis groaned. “God, what now?”

“You did your hair. I’m impressed.”

He leaned against a pillar, forming a scowl again. “Well, that little wanker stole my beanie. I was forced.”

Zayn shook his head, placing himself next to him on the pillar. “You have a vast beanie collection. You actually put effort into this. I like your game Tommo.”

“I’m leaving if you keep this up,” and just as he was about to lay into Zayn once more, Harry rounded the corner.

His face lit up when he saw them, and he shook his hair in the most absurd fashion before sauntering over to them. God the nerve of this fucker Louis thought. Harry opened his mouth to greet them, but Louis promptly cut him off, pointing at his shirt. “You take that Ramones shirt off this instance, it’s almost sacrilegious that you’re wearing it.”

Harry looked down at it and back up at Louis again, smiling in such a way that his dimple flashed, which made Louis want to lick it and simultaneously punch him in the god damn face. “Is this your backwards way of saying you want to see me with my shirt off?”

“No, this is my direct way of telling you that you have no right wearing a Ramones t shirt,”

Harry cocked his head. “How do you know I’m not a huge fan?”

“Name one of their songs. And you’re not allowed to say 'I Wanna Be Sedated'”

“I can name all their songs, Louis,” Harry said pointedly.

“Lies. Just like your lies about not being in an indie band.” Louis said motioning at the crowd with his hand.

“Hmm, yet you came anyways,” He nodded at Zayn, “Nice to see you again, Zayn.”

“You as well, Harry. And of course Louis came. He really wants to shag you. He did his hair and everything.” Zayn watched Louis’ face twist into that of a look of horror and quickly stepped away from him to avoid the aftermath.

Harry looked at Louis with a Cheshire cat grin spreading across his face. “Is that so,”

Louis made a noise of disgust. “Absolutely not and Zayn, you are fired.”

Zayn snorted, giving him a shove. “I own half the shop fucker, nice try though.”

Liam suddenly popped around the corner, looking at Harry expectantly. “Harry, you need to get back…”

He looked at the group of them, taking in their faces, pausing a little longer on Zayn than what was necessary. “Oh. Hello.”

Harry waved him over, putting an arm around him. “Liam, this is Zayn and Louis. Met them where I bought your comic.”

Zayn straightened up from where he was leaning on the pillar. “Ah, so you’re the one with the good taste in comics,”

Liam flushed, a shy smile on his lips as he quickly darted his eyes over Zayn’s profile. “Yeah hi, I’m Liam. Harry’s manager.”

Harry glanced at him sideways, giving him a funny look. “That’s a weird way to introduce yourself. I mean we’ve only known each other since we were in nappies together,”

Liam’s blush deepened as he looked down at his feet, toeing the top of his shoe awkwardly before correcting himself. “Sorry. Harry’s best mate. _And_ manager.”

Zayn smiled at him warmly. “Looks like we have two very similar best mates.”

Louis made a show of clearing his throat loudly to get their attention. “Wrong. I’m not a twat.”

Zayn clinked his glass against Louis’ beer bottle. “Pretty sure that’s your middle name, Lou.”

Louis glanced at Harry, who was staring at him in a way that blatantly screamed sex sex sex. He finally tore his gaze away, bumping his shoulder with Liam’s. “Alright slave driver, guess I better go put on a show.” Zayn held out a fist for him to bump as he leaned over to whisper to Louis, placing one hand on his chest and purposely touching his tongue against his ear. “The hair is fucking sexy by the way.”

And when he felt the motion Louis’ swallowing, he backed away giving them a wink. “See you after the show, boys.”

Louis mentally kicked himself for being affected by Harry and made sure to avert his eyes when he walked away, because he would not give in to the devilry of those skinny jeans. He simply would not. They were stupid. And clingy. Stupidly clingy. He continued his eternal fight with himself until he noticed Zayn watching him suspiciously. “What did he say to you anyways?”

“His friend thinks you’re hot.”

Zayn suddenly looked intrigued. “Really?”

Louis shrugged, deciding to go for the lie. “Yeah, I mean look at you. How could he not with all the leather and hair product you’re rocking tonight. Plus you know, your face and all that.”

Zayn narrowed his eyes. “You’re being suspiciously nice all of a sudden,” Louis just smiled at him innocently. Zayn gave up. “Whatever. Hey, let’s get one more drink before they go on.” Zayn pulled him back over to the bar and Louis thought yes, drown me in ALL the alcohol please.

The lights dimmed a few minutes later and Louis trained his eyes on the stage. Harry was the first one out, walking out on stage with a bit of a swagger, looking back to smile at a hyper looking blonde guy holding a guitar. Harry grabbed the mic; smiling out at the crowd. “Hello, I’m Harry Styles and we’re going to sing you some songs.”

The crowd cheered and he looked back at the band again, like he couldn’t believe they were up there. “Alright then.”

And by the time they finished their first two songs, Zayn was an official fan girl. “They’re pretty fucking good Lou, even you have to admit it.”

“I don’t have to do anything of the sort,” Louis grumbled. But dammit. They were. Louis recognized one of the songs and knows for a fact that he’s bobbed his head along to it and god that just really pissed him off. He was also pissed off about Harry’s stage presence. Did he _need_ to get so fucking into the songs? Louis swore to god if he got on his knees one more time he was going to jump on stage and yank him up by those fucking curls because it was just really, really unnecessary.

By the time they were nearing the end, Louis felt like he had ground most of his teeth away. Zayn bumped his shoulder, knocking him out of his trance. “Damn, he’s got a voice on him. Quite the performer too. They could be big one day.”

“Yeah he’s fine, I guess,” Louis said absently.

Zayn smirked. “Oh, is that why you’ve practically chewed your face off watching him?”

“Have I told you how much I hate you today?”

And before Zayn could answer him, the blonde guitar player was bounding up to them, his face flushed, his eyes giddy with excitement and his mouth going a mile a minute. “So, whadya guys think? It’s always so so crazy every time we get up there, I still can’t believe people come to see us. Harry said you own a record shop? We should release a vinyl. Oh, I’m Niall by the way. Harry pointed you out!” He said all this in one breath, and they could do was stare at him in stunned shock, mumbling out a 'hi Niall' in return.

Harry startled them as he snuck behind them, clapping a hand on their shoulders. “Ah, I see you’ve met Niall. Don’t worry, most people have this reaction when they first meet him.”

Zayn snapped out of it first, nodding at Harry. “Where’s your friend Liam?”

Louis did an eye roll so hard that he was surprised they didn’t roll right out of his head. Zayn was so painfully predictable. The moment he got even an inkling that someone thought he was fit, he immediately felt the need to get into their knickers. However, this one was even better seeing as Louis made it up. He gave himself a triumphant high five in his mind, thinking he deserved to be shot down for torturing him all night. Well really most of his life.

Harry shrugged. “Dunno, probably doing some sort of boring managerial type stuff in the back. He should be out in a bit.” He focused his eyes on Louis now, a wicked smile on his lips. “So, shall we go to mine then?”

Louis narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“By no, do you really mean yes?”

Louis crossed his arms. “Fine.”

Niall tipped his head back in a laugh. “Well, that didn’t take much,” he nudged Zayn, “Looks like you’re going to have to drink with me. Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and shag ya.”

Zayn wiped his forehead in mock relief. “I was wondering, glad we got that out of the way.” He reached over to twist one of Louis’ nipples. “Bye Lewis. Use a condom!”

Louis gave his hand a hard smack. “I hate you. You can keep him, Niall.”

Niall gave them a salute. “Brilliant! Good luck,” and with that he was already tugging Zayn towards the bar.

Harry turned around, giving Louis’ bum a slap before heading towards the exit. Louis shot daggers at his back as he followed him out the door, waiting for him to flag down a cab. He decided to ignore him on the short ride, because the way he was looking at him was a little too unnerving. Louis suddenly wondered if he had made a huge mistake. He then shook a fist at his thoughts. No. You will show this stupid fucking hipster, Harry fucking Styles (if that was even his name. He was sure it was made up) who was more superior here. Let the hate fucking commence.

 

 **

 

And because Harry Styles didn’t grate on Louis’ nerves quite enough, he just had to have an amazing flat as well. Fuck it all Louis thought as he gave the place a once over, taking in the open kitchen complete with a massive island in the middle with envy. His eyes roamed to the exposed brick wall in the living room, noting the art that hung there and he wondered if Harry went to art shows, walking around with the book and pretending to know about artsy shit like 95% of people did that went to those things, posing as experts on modern sculpture or whatever the fuck the latest art craze of the moment was.

Harry watched him from where he was leaning on the island in the kitchen, eyes filled with amusement. “Drink?

Louis paused on the opposite side of the island, nodding at his shirt, “Can you change or something, that shirt is making me agitated.”

Harry laughed. “I don’t think it’s the shirt.” But then he took step back, pulling it over his head, tossing it at Louis.

He dodged it, raking his eyes over Harry’s disgustingly long torso. His lips pulled into a frown. “Well, that’s annoying,”

Harry looked confused. “What is?”

“Your body.”

Harry instantly perked up, smiling again. “Oh. Thank you.”

Louis rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Nice butterfly by the way,”

Harry looked at his stomach and smiled even bigger. “Thank you again.”

Louis tilted his head. “Harry, not sure that was meant to be a compliment.”

He shrugged it off, eyes turning serious. “So, how do you want to do this?”

Louis shook his head, laughing himself now. “Are you Pretty Womaning me right now? And just so you’re aware, this is the weirdest foreplay I’ve ever been a part of.” Louis looked at him pondering something else. “Are you even gay, or this just a trendy thing for you to be doing right now?”

He shrugged. “If you need the label, then yes, but I don't particularity like them."

Louis rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that night. “Ah, of course. I should have known,” he leaned across the island, pointing a finger at him. “And just so we’re clear, I will not be the bottom, so get that out of your head right now.”

Harry leaned across, his faces inches away from Louis’ “Okay.”

Louis searched his eyes. “Are you always this submissive?”

Harry’s eyes dropped to his lips as he answered. “Not usually. Maybe I just like you bossing me around.” He straightened up, nodding his head down a hallway. “Bedroom’s this way.”

Well alright then Louis thought. Guess we’re doing this. He pulled his coat off, placing it on a stool in the kitchen, following behind Harry. He turned his head, speaking over his shoulder. “Oh, and Louis? You better fuck me like you hate me.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem.”

And Louis cursed under his breath, wondering who the fuck Harry Styles thought he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is enjoying the story so far! I'm going to be on a small hiatus, so I won't be able to update until next weekend but as always thank you for reading and the lovely comments :) xo


	3. Chapter 3

Louis narrowed his eyes at the insistent knocking on the front door of the shop, already getting his words ready to yell at Zayn for forgetting his keys yet again. He had almost reached the door when he stopped short, seeing Harry’s smiling face behind the glass, most of him engulfed in a massive parka. He unlocked the door hesitantly, pulling it open just a few inches to stick his head out.

“Um, can I help you?”

Harry’s teeth clattered. “Let me in, it's freezing out here!”

Louis remained where he was, flicking his eyes over Harry. “How many coats do you own, anyways?”

Harry made a gargled noise, pulling the door out of Louis’ grasp. Louis jumped back in surprise as Harry pushed his way through the door. He crossed his arms, mouth drawn in annoyance.. “Well come on in, make yourself at home.”

Harry pulled the furry hood of his parka down and Louis noted the blue beanie he had on, thinking the color really looked quite nice against Harry’s porcelain skin and the green of his eyes; that were now watching him with growing interest. Louis darted his eyes away, avoiding Harry’s intense gaze.

“Why did you run out the other night?”

Louis instantly shot his eyes back to Harry’s. “Excuse me?”

Harry looked at him pointedly. “You left while I was sleeping,”

Louis pointed an arm at him in protest. “What did you want me to do, Harry? I do believe it went a lot like this – you said, and I quote “Wow that was athletic” and promptly fell asleep moments later. Was I to stay and watch you sleep like some sort of creepy voyeur?”

Now it was Harry’s turn to raise his arm to argue. “I don’t know, Louis, you could have slept too? Would it really have been so terrible to stay?”

“I don’t even know you. In fact, I’m not even sure if I _like_ you. I don’t think breakfast in bed was quite ideal.”

Louis’ little jab had him smiling a bit, giving up the argument. “Fine. I’ll let it go this time.”

Louis was utterly perplexed by him. He dropped it just like that. Louis was wondering if submissive was his middle name. He should really check his ID, because he wasn’t truly sold on this whole “Styles” thing either.

Then his demeanor suddenly changed. “Are you alone right now?”

Louis looked confused. “Yeah, why?”

Harry wiggled his eyebrows. “How do you feel about a blowjob in the back room?”

Louis was taken aback. “Harry, it's 9 in the morning.”

He looked at Louis solemnly. “Oh, do you have like a window for sex? You know, like those women that are trying to get pregnant and can only do it at certain times of the day?”

Louis choked out a laugh. “What??? No, I don’t know about that, and _why_ would you even know about something like that?”

Harry looked nonplussed. “Sex and the City, hello. Don’t you remember the episodes where Charlotte was trying to get pregnant with Trey?”

Louis just stared at him like he was an alien. A crazy, curly haired alien from Planet Crazy. Harry waved it off. “Doesn’t matter. So, do you want one or not?”

Louis swallowed a few times, remembering the image of Harry on his knees during their concert and how insanely hot he looked doing it, and suddenly found himself nodding in agreement. “Yeah… okay.”

 ...

A short while later Louis had his hands firmly wrapped around Harry’s curls and he thought _holy sweet fuck_ he was good at this and promptly wondered how he could possibly get him to do it again one day and maybe he hated him slightly less than he used to and what the fuck was with him watching Sex and the City? And when he opened his eyes a bit to sneak a look at Harry’s face, he was suddenly met with Zayn’s instead, who was leaning against the door frame.

Louis scrambled for something to cover himself up, pushing Harry off of him, who frowned and turned his head to see what had freaked Louis out. “What the fuck, Zayn? How long have you been standing there you pervert!”

He shrugged, giving them a bright smile. “Long enough. Nice technique, Harry. I’m impressed.”

Harry grinned at him from his spot on the floor, still in between Louis’ legs, apparently not feeling it necessary to move anytime soon. “Thanks. It’s a gift.”

He nodded at Louis. “Sorry to interrupt, but I can’t find the money for the till. Just let me know and you know, continue on. Don’t let me being in the shop stop you. Act like I’m not here.”

Louis glared at him, moving Harry aside so he could stand up and adjust his jeans. “Thanks anyways, but your face has ruined the mood for me.”

Harry’s face turned serious. “Really? Actually kind of turned me on a bit. I could keep going.”

“Goodbye, Harry,” Louis said flatly.

Zayn then giggled in a way that drove Louis absolutely mad, because it was so fucking endearing, and now was not really the time. Louis shot him a look of disgust as Harry clamored up, poking Louis in the stomach which caused him to throw his glower at Harry now. “I was only joking. No offense, Zayn.”

He lifted a shoulder, unconcerned. “None taken. I do have to say, I wouldn’t mind getting your mate Liam into a compromising position.”

Harry looked surprised. Louis darted his eyes between them thinking oh fuck please don’t elaborate on this. Thankfully Harry transitioned into indifferent, mindlessly playing with his hair. “To be honest with you, Liam probably thinks that a compromising position has something to do with sports, but you can give it a try. I’m having a party on Thursday if you want to come and put the moves on him.”

Zayn nodded excitedly. “I really do.”

Harry grinned back. “Cool.” He turned his head to aim his smile at Louis. “You’re invited too, Louis,”

“Gee, thanks.”

Harry ignored his sarcasm. “But, that’s days from now. You should come over after work tonight too.”

Louis looked at him suspiciously. “Why,”

Harry tilted his head, a smile on his lips. “So many questions all the time, Louis. I don’t know, have dinner? Surely you must need to eat,”

Louis was once again surprised. And still very suspicious. “Dinner?”

Zayn pulled out a smoke, shaking his head. “Your dick was just in his mouth, Lou. Dinner can't be this shocking to you.” He hung the smoke off his lips as he nodded at Harry on the way out the door. “See ya, Harry.”

Louis pulled off his shoe, whipping it out the door after him. “I really don’t know why the fuck we’re still friends!”

The sound of his laughter trailed down the hall as Harry pointed in the direction of the shoe. “Do you want me to get that for you?”

Louis let out an aggravated breath, pulling his beanie back on that had fallen aside in his Harry haze. “No, I don’t. Why won’t you just leave me alone? Do you enjoy being ridiculed or something?”

And for all of Louis’ annoyance towards Harry, he had to at least admire his persistence when Harry responded with a sideways smile. “I don’t know, maybe I just like you. Is that so hard to believe?”

Louis huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know why, was the sex really that good for an up and coming rock star like you?”

Harry took this as his cue to leave, turning around with a smirk on his lips once he reached the door. “I don’t kiss and tell, Louis. Come over. Don’t come over. Your choice.”

And then he was gone. Louis waited until the shop door jingled shut before leaving the back room, picking up his sadly discarded shoe on the way to the till. He settled into place, grabbing a book that he had been reading and tried to clear his mind of this Harry insanity.

A half an hour later he was interrupted by an annoyed looking Zayn. Louis raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He stood there with his arms crossed. “You’re not going to dinner tonight, are you,”

Louis averted his eyes, pretending to be interested in the new Justin Timberlake album cover, which turned out to be an actual distraction because yeah. It’s Justin Timberlake.

Zayn snapped his fingers. “Don’t be a prick and ignore me,"

Louis focused back on his caramel eyes, defiance set in his own blue ones. “Why do you even care? Jesus, you go if you’re so hurt about it.”

Zayn’s hand balled into a fist in frustration. “Do you _always_  have to be such a cynical twat about everything?”

“How exactly am I being cynical by not going to dinner?”

Zayn raised his voice. “Because, you do this all the fucking time! You never actually believe people are interested in you, so you fuck things up - usually by being a massive arsehole - before they even begin.”

Louis glared at him. “What, are we running a psychiatrists office here now?”

Zayn didn’t back down. “Fuck off, Louis, you know it’s the truth.”

Louis’ frown deepened. “Zayn, I barely even like Harry. He encompasses everything I stand against.”

He threw him a withering look. “You fucked the guy, then he came by to give you a morning bj. He can’t be _that_ bad."

Louis flushed, already hating himself for the next question he was about to ask. “So, do you…do you really think he actually likes me? Or is it just a sex thing,"

Zayn’s anger dissipated as he lowered his head shaking it in bewilderment, before coming around the counter to give him a hug. “Lou, you are the saddest human being ever. Why do you make everything so difficult for yourself?” Louis just shrugged sadly under his arms. Zayn pinched him in the side. “Christ, it's okay to like him you know, even if he doesn’t fit your ‘non hipster’ standards. And believe me I do not want to inflate that huge head of yours more than necessary, but I’m going to say that yes, he likes you, and you were probably good in bed too.”

Louis immediately looked smug. “Interesting. I should get that statement written and signed in blood, I could have had it framed and put on my bedroom wall.”

Zayn rolled his eyes. "Calm down, I said 'probably'."” He reached out and gave his arm a squeeze. "Just...give him a chance. I mean, he's already got quite the crush on you, I’ll bet you twenty quid that he’ll be in here tomorrow again."

Louis rolled his eyes giving him an ‘oh shut the fuck up’ face and decided to hold firm on not going to Harry’s for dinner.

But sure enough, Zayn had been correct about the next day.

…

Louis almost laughed hysterically, because how the fuck was Harry this predictable already, and didn’t he have anything better to do with his time than harass Louis? Today it appeared that he had brought back up with him. He knew Niall obviously, but only vaguely recognized the taller darker haired – Jesus fucking Christ ANOTHER hipster – guy with them.

Harry greeted him cheerfully. “Good morning, Louis!”

He remained on his seat, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re offensively chipper, and frankly it’s a bit much to deal with at this time of the day.”

Louis nodded his head at Niall in greeting. “Nice to see you again, mate. Tell me, is he always this irritating?”

Niall didn’t look particularly amused either. “Today he is. The arsehole dragged me out of bed to come here.”

Louis finally cracked a smile. “I’m quite sorry about that, I can’t say there’s anything terribly exciting happening here.”

Harry hopped on the counter, leaning in to grin at him wider. “Oh, but that's where you’re wrong.”

Louis moved his face back, using all of his will power not to look at Harry’s inviting lips. “Please, enlighten me." He pointed a finger behind them, “And, who’s your friend?”

Harry turned to look as if forgetting that he brought people with him now that he was in the presence of Louis. “Oh, that’s Nick. He has a radio show. He’s here for the records.”

Louis waved. “Hey, Nick. You actually look a bit familiar, have we met?”

Nick sauntered over, hands clasped behind his back, all teeth and quiff up close. “In fact we have. I do believe you gave me a look of great disgust while selling me a couple of Indigo Girls albums,”

Niall piped up from where he was slumped in a chair half asleep. “What the hell are Indigo Girls?”

Louis laughed with a smile that reached his eyes. “I’m afraid they are probably out of your musical genre, Niall.”

Harry snuck a look at his face, taking it to memory, because the full smile it was just as lovely as he thought it would be. Louis glanced at him again. “So, why are you here?” He paused before Harry could answer to give Nick a shrug and lop sided smile. “No hard feelings I hope. You are a fucking hipster after all.”

Nick waved it off. “I’m hard to offend, Louis. The Indigo Girls touch my cold black heart in the most beautiful way,” he clasped a hand on Harry’s shoulder,“I’ll be in the Billy Joel section if you need me.”

Harry jumped off the counter, his dimples flashing madly and Louis thought the only logical explanation for him was that he was the spawn of Satan. Because those dimples were carved by the hand of the devil. This was a fact. Harry pointed at him. “Since you decided to pass up on dinner, I spent the time looking for the perfect song for you.”

Louis coughed awkwardly. “Why were you looking for songs for us, that’s a bit weird,”

Harry juggled his phone back and forth between his hands grinning slyly. “No, I didn’t say us. I said _you_. Can I use your speakers?”

Before Louis could shout out his defiant no, Zayn was there countering him. “Morning, Harry, pass it over,” he said indicating to his phone.

Harry threw it over to him and trapped Louis’ way out of the till, boring his eyes into him. “Just listen.”

Zayn placed it in the iPod dock, tossing the clicker over to Harry as he wandered over to Niall, bumping him awake. Niall gave him a sleepy smile, holding out his fist to him. Zayn reciprocated, nodding his head towards Harry. “Do you know what this is all about?”

Niall stretched, stifling a yawn. “I haven’t got a fucking clue what goes on in Harry’s head, man.”

Harry pressed play, and the first few chords of Mayer Hawthorne’s “The Walk” strummed out. Harry started dancing in front of Louis, singing along loudly -

“Baby whatcha doing now, you’re pissing me off. Ooh but your hair is so luxurious, and your lips are so soft,”

Louis simply stared at him, while Niall and Zayn howled with laughter in the background. Zayn clapped his hands. “This is fucking brilliant. I love you guys.”

Nick called out from somewhere in the store, “Loving this nod to Pretty in Pink, Harold.”

Harry continued shuffling around the store, clearly proving he was terrible dancer and it was also clear that he did not care. He danced back over to Louis, crooning in his ear –

“From the moment that I met you, I thought you were fine, so fine. But your shitty fucking attitude has got me changing my mind,”

Louis gave him a mocking laugh. “Ha ha.”

And Harry just smiled like the little shit he was and soldiered on –

“Everybody tells me I need to let go, I know. But your coco butter skin now, has got me begging for more,”

He belted this out, complete with a gratuitous hip thrust and when he saw Louis crack the tiniest smile, he felt like doing a fist pump along with it. Success.

Louis cocked an eyebrow. “Are you quite finished?”

Harry held up a finger, indicating one more minute –

“Oh you been jerking me around but, I kept my eyes shut yeah. Cause you’re shaped like an hour glass, but I think you’re times up,”

That tiny smile immediately dropped from his lips, and a few moments later Harry took a bow saying thank you, thank you to Niall, Nick and Zayn’s loud claps.

He grinned at Louis again, who had now picked up his own iPod, scrolling through the songs with his mouth drawn in a thin line. “Two can play at this game, Harry.”

He took out Harry’s phone, keeping it in his hand as his song filled the store now. This time Nick snorted with laughter. “You’re so Vain. Well played, Louis.”

Louis tipped his head. “Thank you. Now, are we done, because believe it or not Zayn and I actually work here.”

Harry nodded at his phone that Louis still had gripped in his hand. “Not until you put your number in there,”

Zayn strolled by the counter ripping it out of Louis hand, typing with a smirk on his lips before passing it back over to Harry. “There. It’s under Record Store Dickhead.”

Harry gave him a thumbs up. “Cheers, mate.” He walked over to Louis again, who was watching him warily. Which is exactly how he should have been looking at him as Harry caught him off guard, grabbing onto his hoodie, pulling him into a kiss. He distracted him with a lot of tongue and lip biting, while his hands once again stole the beanie off his head.

He pulled it down over his curls, reaching out a hand to give Louis’ stunned face a pinch. “See you later, sweet cheeks.”

Zayn was chuckling from somewhere beside him as Niall bounded up to give them both a quick hug goodbye before following Harry out the door.

Louis finally noticed Nick standing in front of him with a stack of records; his lips pulled in a knowing smile. “You, my young friend, are grave in trouble. Now, can I pay for these, or are you in the middle of an aneurysm? I can wait.”

 

**

 

Louis remained in a state of stunned speechlessness for the rest of the day, and when he wandered home later that afternoon, he contemplated the sanity of Harry Styles. Why was he so fucking infatuated with Louis anyways. Was it plainly just to aggravate him? He was certain Harry probably had his fair share of men and woman throwing themselves at him, so what the fuck was he bothering with Louis for?

Louis was shaken out of his thoughts from where he was staring out the window of his flat by a knock on his door. He furrowed his brows, wondering what Zayn wanted now, god he had only just left him not a half an hour ago.

He pulled the door open and Harry standing on the other side was definitely not what he had expected. “How the hell do you know where I live?” he sputtered out.

Harry bit down on his lip, looking down at his feet before looking up at Louis, slight guilt in his eyes. “Zayn may have told me,”

Louis groaned inwardly, cursing his supposed best friend and his butting his nose where it didn’t belong.

Harry arched an eyebrow. “Are you mad?”

“Yeah, sort of, Harry…”

“Fuck me, that’s hot,” and with that Harry barged through his door, hands and lips all over Louis. He spun him around, pushing him against his front door, hooking his teeth around the vein on the side of Louis’ neck. He paused, his breath hot against Louis’ skin. “Is this okay?” Sorry …I just haven’t been able to think of anything else all day.”

Louis felt his skin prickle. God dammit Harry Styles was a smooth motherfucker. “Yeah...it’s good, Harry…just…”

Harry interrupted him with a hard kiss, his teeth dragging along Louis’ jaw, his hands crawling under the hem of Louis’ shirt, his hair crazily messed up from the Louis’ beanie that he had still been wearing, and Louis had to remember how to breathe briefly because, _fuck._

His eyes were dark when he stopped for a moment to look at Louis. “You can fuck me up against the door if you want,”

Louis felt as though a bomb just went off in his brain. Harry Styles was hurting him on a deep level. Christ, he wanted to hit himself with a frying pan. He thought he would do this later. Yes later. Much, much later. His eyes roamed his apartment before landing on Harry’s again. “How about the kitchen counter?”

He bit down on Louis’ neck again. “Deal.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! Here is the link to Mayer Hawthorne's "The Walk" if you are interested in hearing the whole song http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gmfcYli6vV4
> 
> And "You're So Vain" is by Carly Simon for those who didn't know what the reference was :)
> 
> XOXO


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well the only thing to say is that there are a lot of gratuitous sexy bits in this chapter...enjoy! xoxo

That Thursday, Louis and Zayn knocked on the door of Harry’s flat as a formality. Even though it was a party, it never hurt to be polite, right? Someone immediately swung it open, smiling widely, their eyes covered by an enormous afro wig. “Come on in, hope you brought your boogie shoes!”

They glanced at each other in a ‘what the fuck’ manner before walking through the door, peering around dumbly at the party goers. Louis’ mouth hung open in shock. “What…the hell is this?”

Everyone around them was decked out in 70’s era clothing; the bells bottoms, the afro wigs, the bad paisley shirts. They were drowning in a sea of polyester, which had Louis scratching his head. “I feel like I’m on the set of Boogie Nights,”

They walked in further and but of _course_ Harry would have a dance floor that lit up. Of course. Zayn nodded to himself, thoroughly impressed. “I’m already going to say that this is the best party we have ever been to.”

Louis sighed, slightly annoyed. “Would have been nice to know that there was a fucking theme. He just said party. You remember him just saying party, yes? There was no mention of costume anywhere in that invite.”

Zayn shrugged, scanning his eyes around the room. “I don’t do costumes.”

Louis shot him a withering look. “I have many comic convention pictures that say otherwise, friend.”

“That’s different.”

Louis turned to face him now. “ _How_ is that different, please tell me, Mr. holier than thou…” his voice dropped off as he had finally spotted Harry, who was doing his best John Travolta impression on the dance floor. He was still clad in his skinny jeans – Louis cringed inwardly because fucking hell, they were growing on him, and Christ on a god damn cracker, he looked really, really fit in the absurd silk kimono he had on, his necklaces glimmering on his chest, sorry, _bare_  chest, under the disco lights.

“What the fuck is he supposed to be?” His voice came out a lot huskier than he intended it to be. Which he didn’t intend it to be at all. God, get it together Louis.

Zayn cocked his head to the side. “Don’t know, to be honest. Jim Morrison maybe? 70’s porn star? Whatever it is, I’m into it.”

Louis fumed silently over that comment, because he would rather be struck by lightning than let Zayn know that it irritated him. He continued to watch him dance, with Niall shaking his ass right alongside him in bell bottoms and a silky shirt, and that vision alone cheered him up again. He swung his eyes over to the couch where Liam looked sadly uncomfortable in his white Saturday Night Fever suit, which Louis could almost guarantee he was forced into wearing by Harry.  

Louis tugged at Zayn’s arm. “Come on, let’s go say hi.”

They each grabbed a drink from the kitchen on the way, complete with garnish and tiny umbrellas, because it was pretty clear that Harry didn’t mess around with theme parties. The stood on the edge of the dance floor when Harry finally noticed them, doing his best 70’s arm roll as he danced his way over.

“You guys made it!” he exclaimed, his face flushed and happily content from the booze Louis was sure.

Louis tipped his glass at him. “Yes, but we apparently stick out like sore thumbs since someone forgot to tell us about the most important aspect of this party. As in we needed a costume.”

Harry slapped a hand against his forehead, eyes wide. “Oh, bloody hell. I’m such an idiot. Sorry you guys, that was kind of the only detail. Shit,”

He bit his lip frowning and Louis gave him a little push on the shoulder. “We’ll let it slide this time, Harry.”

Zayn kept shifting his eyes over to Liam, pretending to be listening to Harry. Louis groaned, giving him a shove. “God, just go over there and work your mojo already. Your face is looking especially offensive tonight.”

After Louis’ pep talk, Zayn didn’t even hesitate. He put on his game face, mumbling a quick ‘Hi Harry. Bye Harry,’ before strutting over to Liam. And Louis was sure that if Zayn could have sprouted peacock feathers at the moment he would have, because the preening was absolutely ridiculous. 

Louis simply shook his head, taking a sip of his drink. “This should be fucking interesting.”

Harry’s eyes stayed on him, taking in his profile in that way that he does; a way that makes you want to squirm under the heat of his gaze and also maybe rip your clothes off. Maybe. He briefly pulled his gaze away to look over at Liam. “Oh, Liam will be fine. He could use a good roll in the hay, I don’t care who it comes from at this point.” Harry turned back, his eyes lighting up. “Hey! I have something you can wear.”

He grabbed his free hand, maneuvering them through the crowd as he pulled Louis down the hall towards his bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them. He sat Louis on the edge of his bed while he pulled open his dresser drawer, rifling through a pile of t shirts. He must have finally found what he was looking for, as he pulled it out with a satisfied smile. He turned to Louis, holding it up against his chest, looking at him expectantly. “How does Queen work for you?”

Louis nodded, giving him a smile. “The only answer to Freddie is yes.”

Harry beamed at him as he strode back over to Louis, climbing into his lap. He laughed as he was caught off guard by the weight of him, causing him to fall back on his elbows. Harry reached out his hands to unzip his hoodie, and Louis could only laugh harder. “I don’t think I need help putting it on, Harry,”

Harry’s response to this was to push him down all the way, sucking on his bottom lip as he snaked a hand between them, fumbling with the button on Louis’ jeans. Louis’ eyes shot open. “Harry…there are people out there. At _your_ party remember?”

Harry barely glanced at him, continuing his work on Louis’ zipper, his tongue slick against his neck. “So? The doors locked.”

And when he felt Harry’s hand slide into his boxers to clasp around him, Louis decided to shut up once and for all.

...

Louis stumbled out of Harry’s room in a daze, hoping he didn’t look as painfully obvious as he thought he did. Harry slung an arm around his waist as they walked back to the dance floor, meeting Niall and Nick at the edge of it. Niall gave Louis a once over before shaking his head at Harry. “So, you guys fucked in there, hey.”

Harry looked smug as he pulled Louis against his side. “It is the 70’s after all, Niall.”

Nick clasped his hands over his heart. “I’m deeply emotional about your respect for the decade. Well done, Harold.”

Niall passed Louis one of his beers, cheersing him as he took a sip of his own. “You must have a magic dick, never have I seen this one so frisky and fancy free.”

Louis blushed, looking at his shoes and pretending to be very fascinated with them. While he was down there he noted that he actually needed a new pair of shitty black Vans. Harry squeezed his arm to get his attention. Louis looked up and fuck, maybe he was kind of starting to like the way Harry looked at him. Jesus, Louis really needed more alcohol to drown all these feelings he was having.

Harry stuck his tongue out at all Niall. “He does,” Louis whipped his head up, damn near pulling a muscle in his neck, his face burning an even brighter shade of red as Harry winked at him. He pointed his finger back at Niall’s giddy face. “But, that’s all you’re getting out of me. You know I don’t like to kiss and tell, Niall.”

Niall slapped a hand on his arm, as Nick watched this exchange with growing amusement. “That’s the thing Harry, you don’t even need to tell me. It’s written all over your face, kid.”

Nick nodded in agreement. “Tis true, young Harold. I can practically see you penning song lyrics in your mind about the blue of Louis’ eyes as we speak. Or perhaps the wonderful curve of his bum. It’s hard to gauge right now,”

Louis was wondering why he couldn’t disappear into thin air at this moment, because how could everyone just be so fucking casual about this? Of course Louis was used to hearing about Zayn’s sexual exploits, but that was just between the two of them, not a group of people they had just become friendly with. He cleared his throat, and tried to act like they weren’t just discussing his sexual performance. “Have any of you see Zayn around?”

Niall suddenly danced around in an excited circle. “Fuck, he didn’t message you? He left with Liam not that long ago!”

Harry clapped a hand over his mouth, covering an obnoxiously loud laugh. “WHAT?” He looked at Louis, his eyes wide, a crazy smile on his face. “I. Am. _Impressed_. Zayn must be some sort of miracle worker. Remind me to send him a fruit basket.”

Louis gave an annoyed snort. “God, every fucking time. I mean I expected this, I just don’t know how he does it. I mean does Liam even swing that way?”

They all looked at each other baffled. Niall scratched his head. “I actually don’t even know. I mean he’s had girlfriend’s? He certainly hasn’t ever mentioned a guy,” Niall pondered this, giving Louis an impressed look now as well. “Are we sure he isn’t _actually_ a super hero?”

Louis laughed. “Yeah, the mysterious Zayn Malik, heroically saving people from their dry spells no matter what their sexuality.”

Nick took a sip of one of the drinks he was holding, pouting his lips. “Damn. I was going to attempt to take him home. Missed my shot. Over _Liam_. You have no idea what this has done to my ego. Please join me in getting fantastically drunk, Niall.”

Niall slung an arm around him, wagging a finger in his face. “That I can do, but no funny business, Grimshaw. My dicks not getting anywhere near you.”

“Niall, I’m fairly certain the color of your skin is sheer. You have nothing to worry about.”

While they continued to bicker back and forth about not shagging each other, Louis pulled out his phone to see what the hell Zayn had gotten up to.

-          How in the hell did you get Liam to leave with you so quickly and thanks for letting me know by the way you twat x

His response was instant, like he had been waiting very patiently for Louis to message him.

-          Louis, never question my skills. It was almost too easy. He didn’t look like he was having a great time, so I asked him if he wanted to see my Batman comic collection aha! Xx

All Louis could do is laugh as he typed back. Harry glanced over at him with a question in his eyes. “What’s so funny?” Louis answered him as he continued typing. “Oh, just Zayn being Zayn. I’ll fill you in later.”

-          I’m guessing Batman is code for penis

His phone vibrated right away with a series of messages coming through.

-          I’ll let you know xx

-          And PS didn’t say goodbye because you were too busy fucking Harry. Again. Didn’t want to interrupt. It sounded lively

-          Also you should let him have a go cause sharing is caring Lou ;) Xx

 

Louis stared at his phone wondering if Liam knew what the hell is was in for.

-          You’re getting awfully creepy in your old age. Take it easy on the poor lad. I expect a full report tomorrow x

 

Harry wandered back over to him, indicating to his phone. “Everything okay?”

Louis nodded, pocketing the phone. “Indeed. We’re all sorted out.”

Harry pulled him in by the belt loop, tucking his head down to bring his lips closer to Louis’ ear. “You should stay over,” he paused briefly. “I make really good pancakes if that helps my cause at all,"

Louis closed his eyes and thought that no, this was a bad idea. Of all the ideas out there that were good, this was not one of them. He thought longingly about Harry’s massive bed, the insanely soft sheets and the down comforter that was made of what he thought was marsh mellow fluff, and the answer out of his mouth was definitely not no.

“I don’t think I can say no to that king sized bed. Or to pancakes for that matter. You have an unfair advantage here, Styles.” And Louis thought back to his text conversation with Zayn and realized that he had a little something in his back pocket as well. He stood up on his tip toes, leaning against Harry’s chest, clutching at the necklaces there as he whispered into his ear, his curls tickling at his nose. “But, I’m actually really staying so you can fuck me into that mattress."

Harry’s fingers gripped into his hips as Louis leaned back down, smiling and batting his lashes at him innocently. Harry gave him a grim look before striding over the stereo to cut the music. “Alright everyone out. The after party’s at Nicks’ flat.”

Nick pushed his way through the confused crowd, making his way over to Harry to ask him what the fuck he thought he was doing, but when he saw the look on his face he decided now was not the time to argue with him. “Er yes, that’s right! Let’s all start calling for cabs, shall we?” He glanced at Harry again. “Outside. We’ll call from outside. Now, snap to it!”

Niall led the way, also knowing better than to argue with Harry right now. He simply ruffled his hair on the way out, giving Louis a look that he could only read as wow you are so fucked. Louis couldn’t have agreed more.

When the last of the stragglers made their way out, Nick paused at the door clucking his tongue. “You are a very naughty child. You owe me, Harold.” He gave Louis a wave. “Have fun you two.”

Louis stood there with his hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels, not really sure what to expect from Harry anymore. He looked at him for direction, and relaxed a little when Harry smiled. “I’m just going to put a few things away out here and get the lights and what not. Why don’t you go get into bed?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to me to help?”

Harry motioned him away. “It won’t even take that long, Lou.” He didn’t notice the momentary shock on Louis’ face from the use of his nickname. “You should really enjoy the peace and quiet while you can you know. The things I’m going to do to you are positively wicked and could very well take all night.” He grinned like a demon and Louis turned around slowly, somehow making it to the bedroom on his shaking legs.

**

Louis blinked his eyes against the sun that was filling the bedroom, wondering why he was so comfortable. His bed wasn’t comfortable. It was from Ikea and most people knew that being water boarded was probably less painful than sleeping on one of their beds. And then he remembered. He was at Harry’s. Louis lifted the comforter, glancing at the arm that was wrapped around his waist. He dropped it, shaking his head at the absurdity of Harry owning a king sized bed, when he was wrapped around Louis like they were desperately trying to fit into a twin one. He cuddled in closer because fuck it, he was comfortable and he wanted to enjoy a few moments of peace before he needed to drag himself out of this white fluffy heaven to go to work.

He felt Harry sigh softly behind him and stilled himself as not to wake him. Or at least he thought he was still asleep the sneaky bugger. He narrowed his eyes a few minutes later when he felt the hand on his stomach start to gradually inch lower. He caught it in his own, peering over his shoulder at Harry’s sleep filled, but somehow still devilish eyes. “ _How?_ I can barely feel my legs right now, Harry.”

Harry leaned his chin on his shoulder, a smile spreading across his face. “I am a blossoming rock star, Lou. My sexual appetite is simply insatiable. It’s part of the role.”

Louis attempted to roll away from him. “If I didn’t like this bed so much I would make a dramatic exit right about now. Don’t be a smart ass. It’s too early.”

Harry’s laughter tinkled throughout the silent room, and Louis would never admit to anyone that he closed his eyes to savor the sound of it, and the warm feeling that was in his stomach was surely to do with hunger and not at all that sound.

His fingers grazed Louis’ waist again as he curled up behind him. “Well, it must be you then. You simply turn me on too much.”

“It’s only been two minutes, Harry. Still too early for smart ass.”

He pressed his lips into the back of Louis’ head. “Fine. If I make you pancakes will you believe me?”

Louis squeezed his hand that was still under the blanket. “It’s a good start.”

He squeezed him back and kissed his head one last time before sliding out of bed, pulling on a pair of boxer briefs before padding out of the room.

Louis was thankful for the alone time, as he stared at the ceiling thinking about how fucked he was. In so many different ways. He wasn’t supposed to like Harry. This wasn’t supposed to be a thing. Why couldn’t he have just been a twatty hipster like Nick? Sure Louis liked Nick fine and well, but he had no qualms about being in your face about his hipsterness. Was that even a word Louis wondered? Anyways. Back to Harry. Louis scrubbed a hand over his face. Ugh. He wasn’t supposed to be funny. And nice. And cooking him breakfast. Louis was supposed to hate fuck him that one time and move on with his life, but for some insane reason, Harry wouldn’t let him.  

Louis gave in, deciding this was using far too much brain power on an empty stomach, and maybe he _should_ just stop being a twat for once and actually enjoy Harry. What’s the harm in that, right? He did let him wear his vintage Queen t shirt after all. That Louis may or may not have dragged over his head at that moment, hoping to casually get away with wearing it the rest of the day. He tugged on his jeans, and since he was already stealing from Harry anyways, he decided to pull on the blue beanie that he had admired the other day as well.

He wandered into the kitchen finding Harry pouring pancake batter into a pan, his brow furrowed in deep concentration. He looked up, lips curving into a soft smile. “I hope you like chocolate chip. I mean even if you don’t, you will. You can’t not like it.”

Louis laughed at his insistence. “I will like anything you put in front of me, as I am a terrible cook,”

Harry glanced up again, noticing the beanie. “Hey, that looks good on you. Your eyes look crazy blue right now. You should keep it.”

Louis shook his head in protest. “I just needed to borrow something for the tragic mess that is my hair this morning. You don’t need to give it to me, Harry.”

He shrugged, popping a chocolate chip into his mouth. “I’ve already stolen two of yours remember? We’ll call it even.”

“Oh, right, I actually forgot about that already.”

Harry did a little victory dance, causing Louis to give him a ‘what the hell was that?’ look. Harry popped a few more chocolate chips in his mouth, smiling around them. “I must have fucked your memory away briefly. I’m good.”

Louis rolled his eyes, reaching over to steal some chocolate chips. “Whatever you say, rock star."

Harry laughed, moving his attention back to the pancakes for a few minutes. He chewed on his lip, flipping a pancake over before speaking again. His voice came out low and smoky. “I really want to eat these off of you,” he said more to himself than Louis.

Louis almost choked on a chocolate chip. “What?”

Harry looked at the plate of pancakes like there were defying him in some way, ignoring Louis’ shock. “Yeah, that’s going to be a bit awkward isn’t it.” He looked up thoughtfully, narrowing his eyes. “How do you feel about me putting maple syrup on you?”

Louis blinked a few times. “Are you really going to try and eat pancakes off of me?”

Harry shook his head. “No, but I can think of a lot of places that I would like to lick maple syrup off of.”

Louis glanced at the clock, Harry’s eyes following his. “Do you have time?”

“I have about an hour. Maybe two if I text Zayn,”

Harry nodded, holding out his hand for Louis to take it. He grabbed a bottle of maple syrup in the other and grinned triumphantly. “I’ll pack those up for you to take to work.”

What the actual fuck Louis thought to himself. 


	5. Chapter 5

When Louis strolled in later that morning, Zayn was slumped in his usual spot at the till; arms hugged around his body, a beanie covering his usually perfectly coiffed hair, his glasses slipping down his nose, a pile of comics in front of him and not one, but two Venti cups from Starbucks on the counter. Louis threw his bag behind the counter, causing him to jolt up in the seat.

Louis raised his eyebrows. “Were you sleeping? You know the stores open, right?”

Zayn grunted in response, rubbing at the stubble on his unshaven face, trailing his hands down to his neck to massage at the muscles there. Louis’ eyes followed, noting the blossoming purple mark on the side of his neck. And a massive one at that. Louis’ eyebrows rose an inch higher. “What the fucks going on with your neck, did Liam turn into a vampire? I know you have a secret Twilight fetish, but…”

Zayn leaned his forehead on the counter with a sigh. “Fuck off, like you should talk. I’m sure your body looks like a war zone under that shirt,” he lifted his head back up briefly, cocking an eyebrow. “Which clearly isn’t yours… _Well_ , isn’t this an interesting development.” He pulled himself back up to a semi sitting position, smirking at Louis.

“No, no, no, don’t you fucking deflect. I want to talk about Liam and that hickey the size of Africa that he gave you,” Louis proclaimed as he hopped on the counter, picking up one of the coffee cups, only to frown when he noted it was empty.

Zayn quickly grabbed the other cup before Louis could nick it, taking one very long sip. “I’m not telling you shit until you explain to me when you started sharing clothes with Harry.”

Louis made what he thought was a good attempt to shrug it off, keeping his face passive. “I must have just grabbed the wrong one when I was getting dressed. No big deal.”

Zayn crossed his arms again, shaking his head. “God, you are a terrible fucking liar. Whatever. So, why were you late today? Lover boy make you breakfast in bed or something?”

Louis tried not to let his eyes glaze over at the memories of Harry’s idea of breakfast in bed. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, something like that.” He suddenly perked up. “Which reminds me…” Louis motioned at his bag behind Zayn, indicating for him to pass it to him. He handed it over, watching Louis extract a foil package, placing it in front of Zayn.

Zayn looked at it curiously. “What is that? I’m hoping pot brownies,”

Louis rolled his eyes. “They’re pancakes, Zayn. S’bit early in the day for that. There are chocolate chips in them if that helps.”

Zayn eyed the package suspiciously, before squinting his eyes at Louis. “Harry sent you to work with food.... He packed you food,”

Louis clasped his chin, looking at the foreboding package himself now. “Fuck. Yeah, I suppose he did.” Louis frowned, not really sure what to do with this revelation.

Zayn eased off the stool, smacking a hand on his shoulder. “Well, while you deal with whatever that means, I’m going to have a nap.”

Louis nodded slowly, transfixed on the pancakes. Hell, he had even forgotten all about Liam and Zayn. Louis chewed on his thumb, deep in thought. He’d what, known Harry for two weeks and he was already sending him off to work with lunch? That was weird, right? And just when he was starting to like Harry, he suddenly wondered if he was one of those people that was constantly infatuated; falling hard for someone, only to be sick of them a few weeks later and onto the next best thing. Fuck. Was this his flaw? Louis should probably get out while he still can.

His head was suddenly pounding, the lingering smell of maple syrup making his stomach clench. Louis was pretty sure his life was somewhat normal before Harry Styles had walked into it. Sure, maybe it was slightly uneventful. But at least he wasn’t thinking about stupid fucking _feelings_ all the time. Maybe he should start watching Sex and the City. Maybe he’d learn something. That’s how girls figured out their lives, right?

Inspired, he reached into his bag pulling out his lap top because now he was on a mission. He was going to solve the mystery of Harry dammit, and if he had to turn to a television show about 30 something women, well so fucking be it. He paused for a moment, thinking he definitely needed a soundtrack for his insanity right now. He scrolled through his new downloads and decided to give the new Justin Timberlake a listen. His smooth falsetto filled the store as Louis started illegally downloading Sex and the City, and by the third song he wanted to rip his god damn hair out because great, yet another inspirational soundtrack that he wanted to fuck Harry to.

He yanked his beanie down over his face in frustration “Arrrgggh!” He pulled it back up moments later, eyeing the pancakes again before tearing off a piece, angrily chewing it as he thought you know what? The fact that he was spiraling out of control right now was _actually_ Zayn’s doing. He’s the one who made the pancakes into a 'thing'. “They’re just fucking pancakes!” Louis shouted out, pounding his fist on the counter for emphasis.

“Are you alright out here?”

Louis whipped around at the sound of Zayn’s voice, immediately narrowing his eyes at him. He picked up a pancake, throwing it at his face. He dodged it, glaring at Louis. “What the fuck is your problem; are you having a pancake infused meltdown?”

Louis raised his voice to a trill. “Yes, I am, and it’s your entire fault! And I don’t want to talk about the fucking ‘pancakes’ anymore, I want to know why you keep dodging the Liam thing!”

They stood in a face-off with each other, breathing heavily when the door jingled open. They turned their heads and both of them froze when Harry pushed through the door, his face half hidden by the dozen balloons he had in one hand. “What in the fuck is this now,” Louis said under his breath, eyeing up the pink box he held under his arm.

Harry poked his face out from behind the balloons, all toothy grin and dimples. “Hello!” He stopped in his tracks, darting his eyes between the two of them, noting their faces. “Uh, is everything okay in here?” he asked, his face now painted in worry.

Zayn looked at him dumbfounded.“You’re asking _us_ if we’re okay when you're carrying around a dozen balloons midday?”

Harry brightened again. “These are for you actually!”

Both Zayn and Louis’ faces twisted into confusion. “Why?” they both asked in unison.

Harry strolled over to them, tying the balloons around a pillar by the counter, shoving the pink box into Zayn’s hands. He clapped his own huge ones together. “Well, it just so happens that Liam stopped by to help me clean up, and he had quite the spring in his step today. Dare I say he even looked at bit smug.”

Louis shot Zayn the mother of side eyes as Harry pressed on. “I don’t know what you did Zayn, but seeing my best mate happy makes me happy. So, thank you.”

Zayn shuffled back and forth on his feet, mumbling as he fumbled with the box in his hands. “You should really be giving these to him.”

“Why's that?” Louis said loud enough for the entire block to hear.

Zayn placed the box on the counter, stepping back to look at Harry. “You guys certainly have the wrong image of Liam. He fucking pounced on me as soon as we got in the door. I have bruises and pain in places I didn’t even know existed,” he whined as he stood there pouting at the ground.

Harry gaped at him while Louis screamed with laughter. “You should see your face, Zayn. This is almost as exciting as the day you found out they discontinued your favorite hair product!”

Zayn’s pout deepened. “That was a hard day for me, Louis.”

Louis’ laugh only got more hysterical. “I love this. Someone out sexed Zayn Malik. I think I’m going to throw a parade in Liam’s honor.”

“This isn’t funny Lou, I’m in pain!”

Harry finally spoke up, sputtering out words. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say. This is…this is news.”

Louis looked at Zayn with a wicked smile. “Did he talk dirty to you, Zayn? Did innocent little Liam whisper filthy sweet nothings in your ear while he pulled your perfect hair and fucked you till the sun came out?” he nodded at Harry, “Because let’s be honest, Zayn doesn’t top.”

Harry quickly covered his ears, shaking his head in horror. Zayn stalked over to Louis, jabbing a finger at him. “Very funny. I bet you were cooing like a little bitch while Harry got you off in that t shirt you’re wearing – oh, Harry, yeah, just like that, hum Somebody to Love around my dick, it’s my favourite Queen track you know,’”

Louis fluttered his eyelashes, clasping his hands over his heart, sing songing out to Zayn. “Oh Liam, next time we bang it out we should do it in Batman costumes, because one time when I got drunk I told Louis that was my ultimate fantasy and he’s never let me forget it and…”

Harry stepped in the middle of them, cutting them off. “Okay. I don’t know what happened here earlier but I think you guys both need a time out.” He reached for the box on the counter, holding it open to Zayn, a bright smile back on his face. “Have a cupcake!”

Zayn peered over, staring at the inside of the box. “You brought me balloons and Batman cupcakes?”

“Yes, I did!”

Zayn scratched at his beanie, perplexed. “Where did you find someone to make these?”

Harry smiled ruefully. “I have a guy.”

Louis groaned behind them. “I think I need to lie down,”

Zayn remained in his baffled revelry. “You have a cupcake guy?”

“Mmm hmm.”

Zayn pondered this momentarily before shrugging and pulling out a cupcake. “Okay.” He took a bite and some life finally showed on his face. “Fuck, these are sick!” He pulled the box out of Harry’s hands, placing it on top of the stack of comics that were sitting on the counter. He gathered them up in his arms, giving Harry a tiny smile. “Cheers.”

Harry smiled back, hands in the pocket of his jeans “Anytime” He hesitated before calling out to Zayn once more. “Hey, Zayn…are you going to see Liam again?”

He paused in his tracks, fumbling with the comics in his hands, until he tugged one out, walking it over to Harry. “Yeah, I was actually looking for this to give to him. My numbers in there…just…maybe tell him I need a few days to recover.”

Harry laughed. “Will do.”

Zayn left the two of them up front, but not before shooting Louis one more angry look.

Louis flipped him off in return, causing Harry to raise his eyebrows in question. “Seriously. What happened here?”

Louis directed his annoyance at Harry now, ignoring his question. “Why do you have a cupcake guy?”

Harry fiddled with the zipper on his coat – yes, another fucking coat – shrugging. “I used to work at a bakery.”

And for some reason this information only seemed to ruffle Louis’ feathers even more. “And what’s with all the coats?”

“Are you going to keep yelling questions at me?”

Louis sighed, immediately feeling like a shit. “No… Sorry. Zayn stuff. It’s not you.” He gave him a half smile. “It’s a nice coat.”

And because nothing seemed to faze Harry, he beamed once more. “Thanks. You can borrow it if you like. It’s Burberry.”

Louis closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He didn’t think he could handle anymore of Harry today. Between the pancakes, balloons, cupcakes and Burberry, Louis was about ready to launch himself into oncoming traffic. Harry needed to not for a moment. Thankfully the gods were on Louis’ side, because he actually had somewhere to be for once. Harry gave a little cough, clearing his throat before saying his goodbyes.

“I guess that’s it, then. I’ve got rehearsals and a bit of recording over the next few days before our show on Saturday. So…” he broke off, leaving a ‘so I won’t be able to see you’ hanging there. Louis looked at him questioningly. “Right, so, you guys should come to the show again if you want.”

Before Louis could answer, Harry was slinking over to him, leaning in to hover inches away from Louis’ lips. “Though, you _should_ really come. I was thinking if I blow you before the show my voice will sound extra, extra raspy.”

Louis’ voice caught in his throat, trapping the words there. He absently ran his tongue along his bottom lip, Harry’s eyes trailing after it. He leaned back on his heels and turned to head out the door, looking at him once more when he was halfway out the door.

“Oh, and you should try and get one of those cupcakes out of Zayn if you can. They really are quite good. See you Saturday, Lou.”

Louis scowled at the door as it shut behind Harry. Why was it every time he was around Harry he always seemed to end up in a state of shock? Ooh good song Louis thought. He turned around to his iPod, scrolling through until he found it. He finally relaxed a little. Michael Jackson was after all, one of his happy places. As was Zayn’s. Speaking of which, Louis got off his seat, wandering around the corner to the back room to find him.

He paused in the doorway, smiling to himself at the sight of Zayn curled up on the couch, the box of cupcakes wrapped in his arms and a smear of blue icing on his lip. And this right here was exactly why it was so hard to stay mad at him. He crept in the room, sitting down next to Zayn on the couch, wrapping his arms around his torso, resting his head on his shoulder. Zayn stirred awake a few minutes later, blinking a few times before focusing on Louis. Louis reached out to wipe the icing off his lip. “Sorry for being a twat… again.”

Zayn grinned, because this was their friendship in a nutshell. Ridiculous, no holds barred insult matches, followed up by apologetic cuddle sessions. “Yeah, me too. Harry must think we’re nuts."

Louis shrugged. “I don’t think he’s completely sane himself, Zayn. I mean a cupcake guy? Really?”

Zayn chuckled. “Yeah, you sure found yourself an interesting one there, Lou.” Louis remained quiet, sticking a finger in one of the cupcakes to taste the icing. Zayn nudged him “What’s going on. I know this look of yours all too well.”

Louis shook his head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Zayn reached up a hand to tug on a piece of his fringe. “You sure?”

He turned his body to face him, plastering a smile on his face. “Yeah, all good. And looks like you’ll get to see Mr Payne, no pun intended, himself again on Saturday. Harry invited us to their show.”

And Louis felt oddly comforted by the slight panic in Zayn’s eyes, because at least someone other than him was fucked for once.

 

 

**

 

Louis hadn’t even realized how much time had passed until he noted the blooming flowers surrounding them on the patio of a pub one spring afternoon. He flicked his eyes over to Harry, who was sunning his face with his eyes closed, a soft smile on his lips. Fuck, he really looked beautiful in the sunlight. He was like this gorgeous creature – wait, make that mythical, gorgeous creature – what with his creamy porcelain skin, his ridiculous pink pouty lips, the green eyes that sometimes changed to a dove grey depending on the way the light caught them. Right…so, that little assessment wasn’t creepy at all.

Harry slowly cracked open his eyes, focusing on Louis, causing him to quickly swing his own away, feigning interest in the chalk menu that sat outside the patio door. Harry fiddled with his coaster, tearing little pieces of it off. “Hey, Lou?”

Louis turned to face him again. “Hmm?”

Harry focused on tearing another piece of the coaster away, before looking back at Louis. “So, we’re going on tour next week,”

Louis straightened up a bit, paying attention now. “Oh yeah? Doing the UK?”

Harry hesitated, ripping another long strip off the coaster. “No…we’re actually going to America.”

Louis pulled off his glasses, placing on the table a little harder than he had meant to. “What? For how long?”

Harry licked his lips. “Like 3 or 4 months?”

Louis simply stared at him. “And you’re just telling me now?”

Harry started playing with his hair now, another nervous habit of his that Louis had caught on to. “We really only found out the final details the other day…”

Louis cut him off. “But, you knew you were going to do this. Like, you knew this was a plan,”

Harry’s eyes dropped guiltily. “Yeah, I suppose.”

Louis sat there speechless. Well, there it was. The inevitable shoe that he had been waiting to drop. He wanted to scream at himself for being so fucking stupid.

Harry seemed to struggle for words, which had never usually been a problem for him. “Look, Lou, I know that this was like a casual thing for you, so I understand if you want to see other people. I mean it’s a long time…I don’t expect you to…you know…” Harry left it there, shrugging his shoulders, staring steadfastly at that fucking coaster.

Louis wanted to jump up and down in protest. No, he didn’t want to see other people, why the fuck would he want that, and what the fuck did Harry mean by him thinking this was a casual thing? Was he really that bad at showing his feelings?

“Yeah, okay. We can see other people. Sure.” Fuck. _Why_ did he say that? He instantly regretted the words when he saw Harry’s face fall.

He shook it off, giving Louis a smile he had never seen on Harry’s face before. It was forced. Fake. “Oh. Alright then. Yeah, that’s easier I guess.”

They sat there in awkward silence, something that had never happened to them before; with Louis concentrating so hard on the table he thought he might burn a hole through it. His heart was beating a mile a minute.  What exactly just happened here?

Louis didn’t even notice that Harry had gotten up to pay their bill, until he realized he was standing beside the table watching Louis. He bit his lip, pulling at the skin on his fingers. “I have to get to rehearsals, but you can come to mine later if you want?”

Louis nodded blindly, not meeting Harry’s eyes. “Sure. I’ll message you.”

Harry shuffled back in forth in his white Converse, Louis transfixed on the motion of his feet with a pang in his heart thinking fuck; he looked really good in those too. Louis swallowed the lump in his throat as he watched Harry walk away.

He turned around when he got to the exit, and Louis focused on the way the his hair looked in the sun, memorizing the different colours it played up, desperately needing to look anywhere but his eyes. “Bye, Lou.”

“Bye, Harry.”

And Louis knew that was the last time he was going to see him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhhh I'm sorry!!! I had to bring in some angst though! Such if life yes? Thanks again for reading and a side note - State of Shock is by Michael Jackson and Mick Jagger and you should listen to it because it's awesome
> 
> XOXO


	6. Chapter 6

Louis dragged his feet as he walked to the shop, shivering a bit in the crisp fall air, wondering to himself where the summer had gone. He paused at the door of the shop, that familiar feeling of dread in his stomach. He thought about how much he used to love coming to the work, and then he remembered exactly where the summer had went. He spent it under a constant black cloud of sadness, not even having the energy to mock Nick when he came in to show Louis his newly acquired LMFAO vinyl, causing Nick and Zayn to send each other some very concerned looks. Nick softened his eyes, placing his hand on Louis’, singing in a soft, low voice, “Party rock is in the house tonight… everybody just have a good time…and we gonna make you lose your mind…everybody just have a good time.”

And that was probably the first and only smile that Louis cracked all summer. Nick pulled him into a hug, giving him a soothing rub on the back, and Louis tried his best not to cry. After that, Nick started stopping by at least once a week, pretending to be very interested in comics all of a sudden, when Louis damn well knew that he and Zayn were conferencing about him back there. Nick would come back out and distract him with questions about his favorite records, favorite songs from all the various decades, claiming it was research for his radio show. It was endless. He had to admire them for trying to pull him out of his Harry post-partum syndrome. Louis also tried to ignore the quiet conversations he could hear Zayn having with Liam in the backroom. Every part of him ached to ask about Harry and he could see that Zayn was waiting for it every time he got off the phone, but he never did. So Zayn simply nodded and silently hoped that Louis would come around one of these days.

Louis sighed, fumbling his keys in the lock, opening the door with a heavy heart once again. He flicked on the lights and looked around, wondering when the memories of Harry would fade away. He was everywhere – dancing like an idiot in the isles, pleading with Louis to join in, reading quietly next to him at the till as he stole little glances at him thinking Louis didn’t notice, and of course once again defiling the couch in the back room, mostly to piss Zayn off because he liked to nap on it so much. Yeah, Louis thought as he perched on his stool, huddling further into his hoodie…Harry was everywhere. And nowhere at all really. Louis groaned, wanting to slam his forehead into the counter for being so fucking melodramatic. He buried his face in his arms anyways, staying like that until he felt a couple taps on his shoulder a little while later. He didn’t bother looking up, because he would know who belonged to that Gucci cologne from a mile away.

“Ah, yes. Radiohead, again. Very uplifting, Lou.”

“So, change it then,” Louis mumbled.

“Really?”

Louis nodded into his arm. “Knock yourself out.”

He listened to Zayn fumble around behind him and immediately regretted relinquishing control of the stereo when Party Rock Anthem blared throughout the store.

Louis finally eased himself up, only to find Zayn grinning like a crazy person in front of him. He rolled his eyes, running a hand through his hair. He hadn’t even bothered with a beanie to cover the mess that it was in. “Jesus Christ, you do realize that you and Nick are like two years late on this bandwagon right?”

Zayn shook his head. “Doesn’t matter to me, it’s just really enjoyable, Lou!”

Louis finally smiled, because Zayn just looked too pleased with himself. “Are you going to make me listen to the whole album?”

“We can’t miss Sexy and I Know It. Animal print pants out of controllllll,” he sang out, complete with a body roll.

Louis watched him in awe. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with my friend, Zayn Malik.”

And when he blushed a deep red, Louis knew something was up. His heart hurt as he swallowed hard before asking his next question. “They’re home, aren’t they,”

Zayn dropped his face to his feet, nodding slowly. Louis crumpled a piece of paper, tossing it at his head. He looked back up meeting Louis’ eyes. “Zayn, you don’t need to feel bad. I know you’re excited to see Liam. It’s perfectly fine. I’m the one who fucked this up for myself. Please don’t feel like you can’t be happy around me, okay?”

Zayn’s shoulders relaxed, his face softening into a smile. “I’m going to meet him and Niall for a pint tonight, if you want to come?”

Louis immediately shook his head. “No, no. I’m good. You guys go. How come Niall’s going? Don’t you want some alone time with Liam? I mean, I can’t believe you’re going out at all,” Louis said, bouncing his eyebrows up and down for emphasis.

Zayn laughed. “He’s been texting me all morning. I can practically feel his excitement through the phone. I didn’t have the heart to say no.”

Louis hummed, tapping a finger on his chin. “Well, if you decide to party rock Liam into the wee hours of the morning, feel free to take tomorrow off. I’m sure I can pretend to know about comics for a day.”

Zayn waved him off. “You don’t have to do that, Lou. I was thinking about coming in late though. Maybe around 1?”

“Sure, whatever you want to do. I’ll be here.”

Zayn gave him one last concerned look before heading to the back. “You can change the music now, I’m good.”

Louis shrugged. “Nah. You’re right. It is kind of uplifting. I’m fine.”

That statement had Zayn striding over to him, pulling him into a hard hug. Louis clung to him a little more desperately than he meant to, tears burning behind his eyes. Zayn drew away, holding his head in his hands before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Hey, I love you."

Louis reached behind them to slap him on the bum. “Who knew the way to your heart was through LMFAO,” he pushed him away. “Now, go make yourself busy so you don’t drive yourself and me crazy by counting down the hours until you get to see Liam.”

And after giving Louis a middle finger that had nothing but love behind it, he did exactly that. Louis sat back in his chair, the wheels in his head formulating a very, very dumb plan.

**

Louis was apprehensive when he walked down the hall to Harry’s flat; he really didn’t know what the fuck he thought he was doing here. The last time he had seen Harry, they hadn’t exactly left things on the best terms. Well they probably could have, if Louis had just gone to Harry’s that night. Or if Louis hadn’t said all that stupid shit that he didn’t even mean. The desperate need to see Harry was much stronger than Louis’ willpower right now. He probably shouldn’t be here, but Harry needed to know what a twat he was and that Louis had made a huge fucking mistake. Sure it was a grand gesture, but if Carrie Bradshaw could do it, why couldn’t he? Yes, Louis had also spent the summer sobbing with Carrie and Co, learning all there was to know about the female mind. It was truly fascinating. And somehow applied to Louis’ life as well. Go figure.

His heart was practically beating out of his chest when he knocked on the door, fingers shaking with nerves as he tucked his arm into his side again. He stood there bouncing on his heels, now nervously pulling at the beanie on his head, needing something to occupy his hands. Suddenly, his breath was sucked out of him...Harry stood in front of him now, still as gorgeous as ever, his skin painted with a fading summer tan and naked as the day he was born, save for a pair of boxer briefs. Louis raked his eyes over those crazy curls that he almost ached to touch, as Harry looked at him with wide surprised eyes.

“Louis? What…what are you doing here?”

Louis smiled awkwardly, swallowing a few times before he opened his extremely dry mouth. “Yeah…hi, Harry…I, uh…I heard you were home and I wanted…” his train of thought was interrupted by a voice calling out to Harry, “Hey, do you have any peanut butter?”

Louis felt his whole body seize up as Harry stared at him, his mouth open to say something, when a body appeared behind him, and Louis felt like he deserved an Academy Award for the best poker face of all time because A) this person was naked and B) this person was Adam Levine. Umm. The fuck?

“Oh, hey,” he said, smiling at Louis before nudging Harry’s shoulder. “Peanut butter?”

Harry finally broke out of his Louis trance, turning his head to answer. “Yeah, I have it. I’ll be there in a minute.”

And then Adam motherfucking Levine squeezed his waist in response, winking at Louis before disappearing again. Louis immediately wanted to go back to the shop and set fire to all of their Maroon 5 records. He’s pretty sure he was never going to buy one again. Nor was he going to watch the Voice. Never. AGAIN.

He scratched his head, giving Harry a smile that he really didn’t mean. “Uh, sorry about this…I didn’t mean to…yeah. I should go,” he paused thinking of something else to say so he wouldn’t jump out of a window. “Congrats on the tour by the way. I heard you were brilliant. Right. Okay.”

Louis turned on his heel, not waiting for Harry to respond and tried his very best not to sprint the rest of the way out of the building.

**

The next day Zayn stood in the doorway of the backroom watching Louis with curiosity, who was curled up under a blanket staring blankly at the wall. He had been doing this for the last couple of hours. Zayn had been keeping track.

He decided to tread lightly. “Hey there, Lou...just wondering…you’ve been listening to this Bruno Mars song for like, the last two hours. On repeat. I mean, I like When I Was Your Man as much as the next person; I just wanted to make sure you were aware.”

Louis finally flicked his eyes at Zayn. “Yes. I’m aware. I’m going for a world record.”

“In what, the 'how long can you listen to depressing songs for' category?”

And when the last couple verses of the song came on, Louis turned away from Zayn to face the couch.

“I hope he buys you flowers… I hope he holds your hand… Give you all his hours, when he has the chance…Take you to every party, because I remember how much you love to dance…do all the things I should have done when I was your man…do all the things I should have done…when I was your man.”

Zayn walked over to him slowly, crouching down next to him, his voice etched in worry. “Lou, what happened? You’re scaring me,”

Louis gradually turned around to face Zayn, his eyes wet with tears, lip trembling. “Fuck this stupid, relatable song. Why did I have to be such a stupid fucking twat, Zayn? Fuck! Why didn’t I ever hold his hand when he wanted to? Or buy him that stupid fucking flowered headband we saw when we were walking in the park one day, because of _course_ he would want that. And why didn’t I just fucking dance like an idiot with him in the store when he begged me to?! I didn’t get to do any of these things when I could have and now I’m never going to. Because I’m a stupid fucking twat.” He wiped at his eyes, sniffling his nose, “And so is Adam Levine, for the record.”

Zayn stared at him in bewilderment, sitting on this information for a few minutes before responding. “I’m assuming we’re talking about Harry here?” Louis nodded. “Okay…I’m just not really sure what Adam Levine has to do with any of this?”

Louis wrapped his arms around his stomach, kicking a pillow off the couch. “I did a really dumb thing. I went to Harry’s last night hoping to apologize. Instead, I was confronted by a lot of nudity. And Adam Levine. I can only assume they’re having the sex that I should be having with Harry."

Zayn raised his eyebrows. “Harry's banging Adam Levine?”

Louis punched him in the shoulder, ignoring his loud ‘fuck you, that hurt!’ “You’re lucky it wasn’t your face. This isn’t a thing we’re celebrating, arsehole.”

Zayn squeezed his shoulder. “Right…sorry. My own stuff.”

Louis shot him a death glare, which he had to laugh at. “I’m sorry, Lou. He’s really fit. The body wants what the body wants.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like it a lot better if he didn’t want Harry’s body,” Louis grumbled.

Zayn’s eyes softened. “So, what are you going to do?”

Louis sighed, tracing a finger around the tattoo on Zayn’s hand. “What can I do? It’s clear he’s moved on,”

Zayn nudged him. “Hey, they have a show on the weekend. Why don’t you come with me? I’m sure he’d love to see you there. Maybe you can talk then.”

Louis shook his head adamantly. “No, Zayn. I don’t think I can do it right now. Give me a few days, alright? Plus you know, Adam fucking Levine. I don’t need that visual again thanks. I’m still hoping he was just a hallucination.”

Zayn leaned back on the couch, looking down at Louis. “Did you really mean all that stuff you said, Lou?”

He averted his eyes, biting back the tears again. “Yes,” he said quietly. “And a lot of other things too. He’s just so god damn easy to love and…”

“Louis!” Zayn barked out.

Louis swung his eyes up at Zayn, startled. “What?”

“Did you just admit to being in love with Harry?”

“What? No!...fuck...maybe?….dammit,” Louis rubbed at his eyes. “I’m so fucked up.”

Zayn reached out to take one of his hands in his. “You’re not, Lou. You’re human.”

Louis just nodded, a sigh escaping his lips. “Do you mind if I go back to listening to depressing music now?”

Zayn stood up, stretching his arms out. “Of course not. I’ll even order us a pizza.”

“Thanks, Zayn.”

He gave him a wink. “Well, I love you, even when you're being a dick."

“And I will love you the most if you destroy everything Maroon 5 related out there after you order that pizza.”

Zayn’s laughter filled the store and Louis felt a tiny fraction better.

**

That was until he got home to his empty flat and sat there in the dark with his sad music like the loneliest person ever, while all of his friends were at a concert having fun and catching up and sharing stories of what is was like touring, and how Harry and Adam fucking Levine met and Harry would take forever to tell the story, because he got adorably side tracked and he tended to ramble and wow Louis really hated everything right now.

Louis shuffled into the kitchen to make some tea, cursing himself for being such hopeless prick. He couldn’t go on like this forever, seeing as all of this was his fault in the first place. He was eventually going to have to succumb to that fact that he needed to be friendly with Harry, for Zayn’s sake anyways. While he waited for the kettle to boil he pulled out his phone to check the time and realized that holy fuck, it was almost midnight, he was getting really good at pouting away the hours, and that he had many missed calls and texts from Zayn since he had put his phone on do not disturb.

He frowned as he opened the series of texts.

-          LOU WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU

-          ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE

-          HARRY IS SINGING YOU A SONG I REPEAT HARRY IS SINGING YOU A SONG

-          I THINK I’M GOING TO BE SICK IT’S THAT FUCKING INDIGO GIRLS SONG YOU MAKE ME LISTEN TO ALL THE TIME YOU KNOW ROMEO AND JULIET HOLY SHIT LOU!!! NICK IS SOBBING!!!

-          HE ALSO SAID THE ADAM LEVINE THING ISN’T A THING IT’S A LONG STORY OMG LOU OMG

Louis’ inner music critic spoke up as his heart skipped a million beats - ‘well it’s a Dire Straits song’ he thought, but he had a soft spot for the Indigo Girls version and also, WHAT THE FUCK. Louis’s hand trembled as he pressed play on the audio Zayn had sent him.

“But I can’t do the talks, like they talk on my tv screen…and I can’t do a love song, not the way you sung it to me…Can’t do anything, but I would do anything for you oh no…I can’t do anything except be in love with you…yeah now all I do is miss you and the way it used to be…and all I do is keep the beat…I keep bad, bad company…and all I do is kiss you through the bars of this rhyme…when Louis I’d do the stars with you anytime.”

Louis dropped his phone, his heart caught in his throat. He changed the lyrics. He changed the lyrics from Julie to Louis. Louis was very likely having a panic attack. He stared at his phone on the ground. What did he do? Did he call Harry? Did he go to his place? No Louis thought. That didn’t exactly work out yesterday now did it. He wrung his hands out, wondering what the fuck he should do when a knock sounded on his front door. Louis strode over quickly, thinking he’d never been so happy for Zayn’s late night visits before.

He pulled open the door with a bit more force than he had meant to, ready to throw himself into Zayn’s arms. Instead he froze on the spot. “Harry…” he breathed out in almost a whisper. And then he decided to give zero fucks anymore and launched himself at Harry, pulling him inside the flat by the lapels of that brown leather Burberry jacket he loved so much, and Louis never wanted to remember a day when he wasn’t kissing Harry Styles.

They stumbled into the flat, Harry groaning into Louis’ mouth, his hands spreading out under Louis’ t shirt, familiar and warm against the small of his back. Louis pulled away briefly, searching Harry’s wild green eyes. “I can’t believe you sang me that song,”

Harry leaned his forehead against Louis’, closing his eyes. “I sang it at every show, Lou.”

Louis pressed a finger to Harry’s lips before he could continue. “Can I show you how much I loved it in the bedroom, because months of sexual frustration Harry. _Months._ ”

Harry opened his eyes, burning dark into Louis’, fingers playing with the button of his jeans. “Who says we’re going to make it to the bedroom?”

God he had missed Harry.

**

They did eventually make it there, collapsing on Louis’ bed a few hours later, Harry’s face scrunching up in pain. “Ow, Lou, what the hell? This mattress feels like it’s made of cement,”

“I think it actually is if you check the tags. It’s from Ikea, after all.” Louis rolled on his side, smiling at Harry like a god damn lunatic he was certain.

Harry rolled over as well; grinning like a fool himself. “I’m going to buy you a new one.”

Louis rolled his eyes, curling an arm under his pillow. “Don’t be ridiculous, Harry, you aren't buying me a mattress for Christ’s sake.”

He shrugged, scooting closer to Louis. “I probably will. You can’t stop me. Plus, it’s rude of you not to want me to be comfortable when I stay here.”

Louis’s eyes turned serious, as he reached over to push the damp curls off Harry’s face. “Harry…I don’t even know where to begin.  I’m sorry I fucked this up so badly for us,” he paused, looking down at the sheets before continuing. “I would have waited for you…I mean I did…I did wait for you. I don’t know why I told you I wanted to see other people when I’m fucking in love with you. That was really bloody stupid.”

“Hey, Lou,” Louis looked back up, Harry’s hand at his waist now, pulling him towards his chest. Louis obliged, curling up against him. Harry pressed his lips into his hair; voice slightly muffled. “I love you too.”

Louis just nodded, because how could he not know that when Harry sang him that song. It was right there in the lyrics, and it was always there in the way that he looked at Louis. He cleared his throat to get Louis’s attention again. “And, I’m really sorry about the other day. I know what that looked like to you, so just let me explain?” Louis nodded again. He really didn’t want to hear this, because in Louis’ world that day never happened, but he figured he owed it to him. Among many other things.

Harry launched into the story, speaking faster than Louis had ever heard him before, like he needed to purge it out of his body. “We met at a party and hung out a few times, like as friends okay, and then he was in town this week so I thought I would be polite and invite him over. What I didn’t realize is that he has this fetish for doing yoga naked and he wanted me to join in, but yeah, I wasn’t ready to take all my clothes off because that's fucking weird, and then he wanted to make this peanut stir fry thing because my kitchen is so ‘zen’ or something and then you showed up and I was so shocked and I didn’t know what to do and you had to see him naked and it’s not like I could kick him out like that…”

Louis snorted. “Should have just sent him to Zayn’s,”

“What?”

Louis laughed. “Nothing,” he leaned back so he could look at Harry again, knowing that he needed to be reassured. “Harry, you don’t need to apologize okay? If anyone here needs to do that for the rest of this night/month/year it’s me, and I will gladly make this up to you in any way, shape or form that you like.”

Harry smiled at him in that way that he loved, and if Louis had a Beatles album on hand - because they were his musical bible, any album will do - he would solemnly swear to never not be able to see that smile again. Amen. He washed his eyes over Louis’ face, teeth playing with his lip. “I really missed you, Lou…and you can make it up to me…but what I _really_ missed is you bossing me around.”

Louis perked up, tugging lightly on his curls. “Well, in that case Styles, go get that Burberry coat on, because if you think I haven’t had many vivid fantasies about fucking you in it, well you’re very wrong.”

Louis watched Harry clamor off the bed and thought that maybe hipster musicians weren’t that bad after all.

 

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh it's over!!! I hope that everyone enjoyed, especially the ridiculous Adam Levine cameo haha. My explanation for this is that i have an obsession about him and Harry singing together, I think their voices would be the perfect balance of high falsetto and low, raspy goodness. 
> 
> I do recommend listening to Romeo and Juliet because it really is lovely and a perfect Larry song :)
> 
> Thank you all for reading and the lovely comments as well! 
> 
> XOXO


End file.
